There is so much I’ve felt like writing lately. I’ve just returned from a rejuvenating, soul-moving trip out west; the anniversary of my previous (and to date best-selling) novel, Postcards from Pismo, draws near; and today is my 30th birthday.
And yet, with all that went on this week, I haven’t been able to find words. I wanted to write something about the wonderful city of Boston, about what happened out there — I didn’t want to be trite, or redundant. I just didn’t know what to put down. It kept slipping out of my grasp.
Today, though, I came across the right words. Words that expressed exactly what I want to share, what I want to see around me. I found them at a local artist’s market not far from my house. They’re not mine; but I feel no shame in borrowing something when it’s just right. It’s just three simple words:
That’s all there is to it.
(PS: The print above was created by strawberryluna. Check ’em out; get something for yourself at their online store.)